


Petrichor

by belladeum



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: (talking about HRE), Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Nationverse, Past Character Death, Talking, also my attempt at comedy, feliciano reads the mood for once, ludwig is not cis, resolved emotional tension, serious conversations, talking about feelings, written ~2014
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 05:03:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16211978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belladeum/pseuds/belladeum
Summary: "I love you, and I think distinction between any affection that’s platonic or romantic or whatever isn’t as clear cut as humans make out. To me what’s important is that we’re both happy."Set 2 years post Buon San Valentino. In which Germany and Italy discuss, and possibly realise, their feelings for each other. || Reupload. Written in 2014/15 ||





	Petrichor

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this back in 2014 but finished it like a full year later? It was initally uploaded on my wrting tumblr with the name "Words of the Rain". And now I have revamped the heck out of it while trying not to completely rewrite it. Thank you so much to [the49thname](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the49thname/) for being my beta!

Feliciano held the long spoon in hand, twirling it absently while he felt the soft and subtly juniper-tinted breeze on his face. He closed his eyes against it to better feel it, though the gentle caress against his skin was also tinted with a much heavier undertone emanating from opposite him. Even though he could no longer see those heavy brows coupled with those deep frown lines and rigid posture he could still detect how tense his best friend was. Evidently he was still struggling to get over the fact that yes, he had a day off, and yes, that was okay. It was even a public holiday of sorts, though that was possibly the reason he felt so disconcerted. Ludwig had not even touched his sundae yet, as the two sat outside on the veranda of Feliciano’s home, one of his homes, in Salerno. That was one perk, Feliciano thought, of living this sort of existence – the convenience of owning multiple houses ready to welcome you at a moment’s notice.

The two had planned to spend some time in Campania, but that coastal home was actually being rented at the moment, so this was a last minute arrangement. Feliciano planned to make the most of it despite the disruption. And everything would go smoothly provided Ludwig did not look in a certain about-to-burst-open cupboard slash storage room upstairs which now held all the various _whatchamacallits_ and _doohickies_ that Feliciano had hurriedly shoved in there to make the place as clean as possible. He prayed nothing of any particular necessity had found its way amongst the assortment. This is also why they were to spend as much time outside of the house as possible. Luckily it was a mild day, and for that he was glad, because he much preferred to spend time outside in the sun, as did Ludwig.

He exhaled with the thought and looked towards his flowerbeds.

The scent of the roses, daisies and lavender among the various plants he had in his garden nestled among the unkempt borders of his lawn mingled with the salty breeze rushing up from the lazy waves of the sea. He could see the glint of the lazy rolling tides, the gentle swell of the water, a great slumbering beast exhaling onto the shore. He turned his gaze away from the coastline far down the cliffs to the mingling scrubland that spread outwards along it, eclipsing his house entirely along one side, and then back to his garden.

Ludwig followed his gaze with a sharp turn of the head to look at some stubborn snowdrops Feliciano was growing. He said he’d received them from Arthur, and wasn’t that nice of him, and then Ludwig had remarked that snowdrops were not native to England, because of course he knew this. Ludwig had the oddest knowledge squirreled away in that practical brain of his. In all technicality, he’d said, Arthur had probably received them from him (his people, rather) or less likely his own ancestor some years ago. He couldn’t be sure, because Ludwig found it hard to trace his exact genealogy, which was not uncommon for their kind.

Either way, Arthur had received them from the Germanic peoples, but if it were not Arthur himself then Arthur’s mother (grandmother? he wasn’t fond of talking about it and it was hard to get a consistent answer from anyone) would have been the recipient. Feliciano had told him to stop talking because he couldn’t remember well that far back and he didn’t really give a shit so long as the flowers actually got round to, well, flowering later that winter.

Feliciano smiled, catching Ludwig’s admiration for the majority of the view, though he could sense the dissatisfaction at the state of some of his expansive garden. He remembered Ludwig helping him plant the various bulbs and seeds: the snowdrops, of course; orchids and tulips; lavender and thyme, and even the failed-to-grow olive tree nearer the back. Feliciano, however, wasn’t the best at maintaining the flora. The best part of his day was going to talk to the flowers because he knew that they, like humans, exhaled carbon dioxide which was good for them, so often he would confess worries to the daisies and tell secrets to the roses, but as far as any actual watering or trimming or anything horticultural went Feliciano was not the most apt. That was Lovino’s job when he came to visit, since the two (mostly Lovino) were adamant about not sharing every house they owned despite how uneconomical it would be, though his brother did not like to make his hobby well known. Feliciano wasn’t sure why, but he reckoned he was worried about getting teased for it. He had wondered if, somehow, the reason was that gardening made him seem too feminine (though he had no idea why this would be such a problem). He’d told Lovino to relax because if it made him feel any better Ludwig liked baking cakes and sweets and cleaning and all manner of domestic things – and that was seen as “womanly”, too. Ludwig was usually most happy in those times, Feliciano had noticed, and would probably make a wonderful house-spouse. So, cheer up, Lovino! If Ludwig could do those things so cheerfully and unabashedly then so can you!

It hadn’t made him feel any better at all.

After a forced discussion clearly unwanted by one party, that hadn’t turned out to be the problem in the end anyway, so Feliciano was still left wondering what it could be. So if Lovino didn’t care about being seen as “girly”, and he wasn’t upset about not doing it well (because he was a very good gardener) then Feliciano was stumped. Only now and then did he think about it, though. He wasn’t one to dwell on problems.

It was a few minutes more before Ludwig rose out of his trance and inhaled quickly as he broke the surface. He looked round to Feliciano, who had now finished his second sundae and was pondering a third as he stared at him fondly. His chin was resting on his hands, no longer tapping the side of the warming glass, where condensation was dripping down the outside and stray flecks of vanilla ice cream sat inside. He studied the odd misplaced speck at the corners of his lips and the small dimples of his smile. Ludwig flushed.

“You’ve been quiet,” Feliciano said now that Ludwig was back on the same planet, breaking the subject like the hush of the waves.

“So have you. Incredibly so.” Ludwig cleared his throat. He was almost tempted to congratulate his almost-neighbour but going that far would backfire almost certainly. Feliciano pouted but let the jab go uncontested.

“Is something on your mind?”

“No, but something is on yours, right?” Ludwig’s eyes fell down and he looked away pointedly. He sat up straighter, and so Feliciano followed suit. He craned forward. “What’s up?” he asked.

“The sky,” Ludwig murmured absently back, repeating Feliciano’s own typical and unhelpful answer to said question. He was glad to have beaten him to the punchline, beaten him at his own childish game for once, and Feliciano swore Ludwig actually felt a little _smug_ underneath the silliness.

“Hmmm. Well, many things can be considered ‘up’, like the roof for one, and direction is all relative anyway so you need to be specific. I mean, technically the sky in Australia is down from here.” Feliciano did counter this time, speaking lazily, and Ludwig raised his eyebrows as if to say _touché_.

Ludwig hummed and exhaled long and slow, barely listening. Feliciano frowned and tried again. Distracted Ludwig was not usually a good thing – which was odd since Feliciano was always trying to get him to stop thinking so much about literally everything.

“So what’s wrong, Ludwig, really? Is it work? Are you worried about having the day off? You _know_ how important it is to take a break. You’ve worked _really_ hard lately and you’re actually ahead of stuff and soon the environmental ministers are going to get annoyed at you for phoning _them_ and asking if they’re done with other stuff for you to review so you can relay it to us and –”

Ludwig smiled. It was like there was a switch somewhere that engaged ‘chatterbox mode’ and Ludwig being even the slightest bit under the weather flipped it. He could hardly keep up with the inane stream of words coming from Feliciano without pause for breath but it still, _still_ , after all these years, made him feel oddly glad to be worried over, but interrupted him anyway.

“I’m fine, Feliciano, calm down before you hurt yourself.”

“Hmph! You’re the one who always has that weird bulging vein every time you get angry, and you’re the one who has a higher blood pressure despite your so-called ‘healthy diet’ –” Feliciano practically shuddered at the words “– so isn’t what you’re saying really hypercritical?”

“Hypocritical. And no, it isn’t.”

“That’s what I said.” Feliciano pouted and flushed at having to be corrected. Maybe he had eaten too much sundae, as hard as it was to imagine such a concept, because his brain was a bit frozen and he couldn’t think straight or pronounce things right. It had already reached the nerves in his mouth. _Wait_ – Feliciano blinked absently – _it would have reached those nerves first_ … either way, he was sleepy and ready for a siesta presently. Even though it wasn’t really warm enough to warrant one, he’d always find an excuse for a nap. But first he wanted to see if Ludwig wanted to have his sundae before it melted into a soup of uniform taste and texture, because that would be a tragedy. On second thought, Feliciano didn’t care one bit about brain freeze and had decided that there was indeed no such thing as _too much_ ice cream. He simply couldn’t let it go to waste.

He asked Ludwig whether he was going to finish it, and he declined, so Feliciano sprang forward over the birchwood table with a smile and grabbed it.

“Ve, thank you!” He gulped it down eagerly and heard Ludwig sigh from in front of him.

“So,” he said between the rapid slurps and gulps, “what _is_ the matter then?”

Ludwig did not reply for some time, just watching Feliciano with a mixture of mild amusement and continuous surprise that he managed to eat so much before lunchtime. Even so, Feliciano would still have room for a feast. Ludwig had yet to make lunch – and he had insisted to Feliciano on doing so for reasons he would not divulge in, but Feliciano suspected that it was because today was in fact Valentine’s Day and he was embarrassed about it and wanted to give him that promised meal since the year before last. Last year hadn't gone very well, after all. Feliciano also suspected this was the thing that was ‘up’ but was not going to say anything about his presumptions. If Ludwig wanted to talk, then he would. And if he didn’t, Feliciano would out-wait him. Or just badger him into submission – it was usually the latter.

A minute or so passed with nothing said and with Feliciano swinging his legs under the table at the very edge of his low patience before Ludwig spoke. He hoped it was for reasons other than the constant (accidental) kicking at his shins – although it didn’t seem like he’d noticed at all.

“Oh,” Ludwig said, as if he hadn’t heard the question, but he continued so that wasn’t the case. He blinked. “It’s just… I haven’t yet apologised.”

Bingo.

His face was beginning to glow, like the sweet red of the cherry Feliciano loved to eat first after taking a photo of the pristine and untouched sundae – Ludwig didn’t ask why Feliciano had started doing this but Feliciano had told him anyway it was for a food diary and also an online, uh… thing. _Did you know that lots of people on the internet like seeing pictures of good food? It's really neat!_

Feliciano giggled at the fluster.

“Apologised? About what?” Feliciano feigned innocence. He didn’t know if Ludwig noticed, and if he did he didn’t show it. He tilted his head a little and looked at the man across the table with large honey-brown eyes.

“About… the state of affairs the past two years. Everything left unsaid. The way I acted that Valentine’s… It was completely out of order – it was impulsive and illogical and just sort of embarrassing. I made a mistake– I –” Ludwig did know what to say. It was not that rare that such a thing happened, but it was endearing in this context. Ludwig fell short with an even redder face and ears and lapsed into a heavy and uneasy silence. It spanned a mere moment before being punctuated by Feliciano’s chiming laughter.

“Oh Lud, you really don’t have to worry about that!” Feliciano wiped at his mouth clumsily. He kicked his legs back and forth and put a hand across his stomach to control the spasms of his mirth. It was all the more priceless from the way Ludwig was planning a retreat, shrinking back and becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Eyes darted to the door leading off the patio and back inside but Feliciano spoke again to interrupt such mutinous thoughts. “It happens to the best of us you know? Don’t get so embarrassed.”

“Easy for you to say!” he snapped.

“I don’t think it was _that_ bad.” Feliciano began twirling the spoon between his fingers once more.

“You didn’t speak to me for a day afterwards,” Ludwig grumbled belligerently. And for Feliciano, being unheard of _was_ unheard of. Ludwig couldn’t think of a day since the advent of mobile telephones that Feliciano hadn’t spoken to him at least once to some degree.

“You didn’t speak to me for a week!” Feliciano retorted. “Or let me hug you or share your bed or cook you pasta or answer my text messages or even see your doggies. And I _know_ that Berlitz missed me lots because he said so. I only didn’t talk to you straight after so I could update my blog about it with all my feelings on the matter before I forgot cause I was so _confused_. And I actually got some nice help for it.”

“You what?” Ludwig narrowed his eyes, tone falling from high incredulous shock to venomous and demanding. His commanding officer voice that, though having lost its potency over the years of neglect, still unsettled and wore down Feliciano.

“Oh? Nothing? Ehehe… What was I saying?” Feliciano bit his lips and found himself tending towards thoughts of escape to the confines of his home himself, failing that he could easily beat Ludwig in a sprint over the walls and onto the scrubland. Ludwig interrupted these silent plans.

“Did you just imply, no, _admit_ , that you told a number of complete strangers about what happened between us... before?”

“…Ludwig I promise I would never tell and have never told a bunch of strangers about your personal life. It’s a private journal, like a diary that’s online, think of it like that! A way to put my thoughts down. And it’s not like I mentioned our names or anything…” Feliciano only mumbled the latter half, and sighed in relief when Ludwig did not pursue what he had said. He grumbled a bit though.

“Fine…”

They lapsed into a silence more tense than when they had started the conversation. Later, Gilbert would attest that although names had not been mentioned, to those who followed Feliciano’s online presence it was rather obvious who he was talking about, and several nations did now in fact know of the whole ordeal. But Ludwig didn’t ever, _ever_ need to know that.

Thinking about it now, the country’s secret service probably knew too. Oops.

“But still –” Ludwig’s eyes darted back to Feliciano. “The whole situation was improper. N-not _improper_ , I mean– Messy, rather. I wasn’t acting rationally.”

Feliciano cleared his throat. He raised a finger and closed his eyes. “ _Love isn’t rational, but it is satisfying, and that is its allure. Love allows us to act like happy fools,_ ” he answered in a perfect imitation of Francis – self-proclaimed patron nation of love.

Ludwig groaned.

“But I –”

“Ludwig, you need to breathe,” he prompted gently.

“I am breathing,” Ludwig stuttered indignantly but paused to take a large gulp anyway. “I just… need to clarify myself. I acted improperly – I’m sure I caused you at the very _least_ a lot of confusion. I mean, you even said so yourself.”

“Well, yeah, maybe a _little_. It was kind of scary to see you acting like that all of a sudden – for a while I thought I’d done something wrong. Especially after. And last year too with all that… skittering… But it was nice!” he hurried to say, seeing Ludwig blanch and cover his face with sharp muttering and shaking of the head. “It wasn’t a ‘bad’ experience or anything! I did have some people to talk about it to and, well… I mean, did you… perhaps did you act like that because you thought I liked you back?” Ludwig, Feliciano knew, was not the sort to act on impulse without reasonable certainty in his predicted hypothesis being correct – that is to say, he didn’t do anything unless he knew 100% that it would go exactly as he planned it. Perhaps that was being mean, but it sure explained a lot about _San Valentino_. There was really no doubt that Ludwig would not have behaved in such a way if he knew about Feliciano’s own feelings at the time. It begged the question _what did I do or say to make Ludwig think that?_ but Feliciano could not think of a single thing he had done differently that year as opposed to any other. He had considered the possibility that Ludwig had liked him for a lot longer than that, but if so surely he wouldn’t have apologised for it, very emphatically, as a temporary misunderstanding. A one-of-a-kind mistake. That is, of course, unless that was embarrassing for him too. Or perhaps Ludwig hadn’t even realised himself how he’d felt. Oh dear.

Feliciano wasn’t cut out for this much heavy thinking, especially about something that shouldn’t be thought about so much. It hurt Feliciano’s head to think that Ludwig was _that_ stressed about it.

Ludwig groaned. His face was flushed to the degree of some really awful sunburn, and Ludwig was one for burning very badly, as Feliciano knew all too well. Feliciano could tell he tried his utmost not to let his voice shake, but ultimately it did, as Ludwig spoke from between his hands. They were partially obscuring his mouth, and he never raised his eye above his knuckles.

“That’s… I was confused, that’s all. When you said– That is… I cannot even now try and explain or define my feelings. It’s not simple – least of all for me.”

_Ludwig struggles with knowing himself_ , Feliciano thought. If it wasn’t his duty or role, it was his nationhood, it was his relationships, his feelings, himself. What made Ludwig ‘Ludwig’?

“That’s because you’re out of touch sometimes,” Feliciano said, a tad wistfully. “But that’s alright. It’s not like we have a time limit on this sort of thing. Got a few centuries to spare so just take it easy when it comes to these things. Breathe a little. Give yourself some space. Emotions are really weird and can be complicated, even though they feel straightforward, or rather seem like they should be. And then sometimes the obvious ones are the ones that feel complex – at least maybe for you? Anyway, don’t stress out over analysing them straight away.”

“I… yes…” Ludwig replied slowly. He gathered enough courage to look at Feliciano and saw him gazing back with honest and serene eyes. “That’s true, I suppose. But aren’t you bothered by it?”

“Bothered?” He frowned. Bothered how? “Ohhh! That’s… a really stupid question. Also a bit weird to ask it so late. But I’ll answer it because I’m super nice. No, Ludwig, why should it bother me? I care about you deeply and you’re most definitely like 1000% my best friend, the best I’ve ever had. And I certainly wouldn’t have any like, um, qualms about being ‘romantically’ involved with you, or anything else.”

“But then if you didn’t want to –”

“Hey.” Feliciano shrugged. “Got a couple of hundred years at least to figure that out. This stuff is complicated, remember? I love you, and I think the distinction between any affection that’s platonic or romantic or whatever isn’t as clear cut as humans make out – at least not for me. It’s all fuzzy. Maybe that means _I’m_ out of touch, but to me what’s important is that we’re both happy. As long as we value the relationship we have and still get to hang out and stuff then I don’t mind changing it to suit our wants better. We’re not as limited as humans in that way, we can think long and hard about it without the worry of age,” Feliciano said and then he closed his eyes.

“Right…”

“Ah, but you’re still so young, Ludwig! Youth is a troubling time when it comes to these things…”

Feliciano nodded his head and stroked his chin. He wanted Ludwig to praise him for his wisdom – “Who died and made you so wise?” “I don’t know a bunch of philosophers I was taught about but never paid attention to…”

He wished he had a goatee or at least some kind of facial hair to twirl and fiddle with. In times like this he also wished he had some kind of mask like Sadik that would lend to the mysterious air. He’d have to ask him about how to obtain one next time they had lunch. He risked taking a peek at Ludwig, who looked rather put off at the teasing, but there was a smile there, definitely. Operation Lift The Tension was a success. Even Feliciano was quite proud of himself for that.

Quite as if Ludwig had read his mind, he was granted with praise.

 “Thank you, Feliciano.”

“Not a problem.”

Feliciano turned his attentions back to the _gariga_ , trying to see if he could identify with any certainty the smaller plants nestling among thorny shrubs with their thin and shrivelling leaves. Further back was strawberry, and that ever present juniper and oak that saturated the air when it was calm. He knew there would be rosemary, especially nearer the coast, since he had often wandered out to talk to them, too, but he couldn’t see with enough clarity from such a distance. Perhaps he and Ludwig could go for a stroll later in the evening, provided he wouldn’t object to a breeze, and provided he didn’t get carried away with his post-lunch siesta.

He turned back to Ludwig, thinking he’d heard him cough or clear his throat in some small way, but Ludwig looked the same as ever so perhaps he’d imagined it. Still, Feliciano thought he may as well inquire about his imaginings, if only to start a new conversation, one that would hopefully lead to the culmination of food presented to him, or perhaps a hug, or a game of football…

“You still look like you have something to ask me.”

“Ah… well… you said that… you would be okay if things… changed between us. As in… relationship-wise.” Ludwig paused to look him in the eye. Feliciano nodded to show he was listening. “And I know you said romantically… Ah…” Ludwig bit his lip. He did that a lot, surprisingly, but only when he didn’t have a pen or something to twirl in his hand. Feliciano had long since taken his sundae and therefore his spoon captive. The number of stress-related habits Feliciano had identified in Ludwig was more than he could count on one hand.

“You… when I asked you back then about who you liked, you told me your first love was a boy.”

“Yep.”

“So um, does that also mean you are interested in men? And, um…”

“Uh… yeah, pretty much.” Feliciano smiled. Wasn’t that part obvious?

“Oh. Oh. Okay. Well – _ahem_ – actually I don’t think I’ve ever seen you flirt with a man or… display such affection…” He trailed off when he saw Feliciano giving him that look, that teasing and secretive glance as if to imply ‘oh Ludwig, poor Ludwig’, but not at all in a mean sense.

Oh, but of course. If Ludwig was asking if Feliciano was into guys, then perhaps flirting with Ludwig didn’t count? Perhaps he should make that clear. If this was confession hour then Feliciano may as well come straight out with it.

“Well I do like everyone pretty much, no matter how they identify. I don’t think about gender a lot; it’s not particularly important to me when it comes to love and sex. There’s just so many ways of exploring it and for us it’s even weirder cause we’re technically kind of everyone we represent? So you needn’t worry – I’d like you regardless if you felt like a man or a woman or neither. You’re just very cute.” He winked, half-serious. Ludwig didn’t know whether it was the sort of wink that was only half-serious, implying the priority of his joking, or whether half-serious was, well half- _serious_. He also didn't know how Feliciano even had an inkling of what he was implying. Had correctly identified. Couldn’t possibly have guessed. He hadn’t even talked about this stuff with his own brother, let alone the man he’d quite accidentally proposed to.

But this was _Feliciano_ , he somehow knew so much about Ludwig that Ludwig himself didn’t even know. Perhaps it wasn’t such a leap for him to understand how Ludwig felt.

Ludwig said nothing. Feliciano continued.

“I know that seems weird to say. Like, how can I claim not to mind and yet never express how I feel? But I’m just… kind of a coward about it in public, I suppose. I have to act a certain way so as not to upset people. Reputations, you know?” Feliciano smiled, though it was rather sheepish. His fingers knotted together in front of him. “I guess that’s silly, right? I have no problem talking to women – I guess you kind of know that though, huh? But I still get all shaky when I think about my boss and Romero – oh, well, you’ve not met him but you know the Vatican City, right? – of them finding out ‘cause they don’t know otherwise.”

“Oh…”

“You know Francis feels the same way. It’s almost like overcompensating – well, you know what Francis is like – going out of the way to flirt with women, but always very shy in public otherwise. More wary for his people than himself. I think maybe he’s had trouble for it in the past. Then again, he’s not even really truthful with himself anyway. Or maybe just figuring things out still.” _Kind of like you, Ludwig_. “I think Francis worries about how people will react or think of him if he upsets this balance we have now, but I don’t think there’s anything to worry about at all…”

Ludwig wasn’t sure exactly what Feliciano meant, but he nodded anyways. Feliciano directed towards him a rather endearing look. Ludwig couldn’t help but notice some strange sentiment in his eyes, like pride, almost, and for a moment he forgot in his thinking that he was staring back. He blushed and broke the contact.

Feliciano smiled brighter. “Is that what was bothering you? You thought you’d be selfish or felt guilty for liking me? Because that’s no good and you shouldn’t think like that if that’s the case.”

“Oh, no, no, well, not _just_ that… I –” he paused, with a subtle look of distress that made Feliciano want to tackle hug him to the ground because Ludwig either stressed very obviously, which meant it was normal for him, or quietly like this when it was something that _really_ hurt or confused him. Feliciano got a twisty feeling inside his gut like it was being drilled out when he felt sad like that, every once in a good, long while, so he imagined this was what Ludwig was feeling right now, and it was _awful_. He refrained from moving, though, because Ludwig was blinking the feeling away.

“I feel stupid for asking, I’m not sure if I should. Is it too intrusive?” Ludwig meant only to speak to himself, but he didn’t feel that voicing his thoughts aloud was a wrong choice, or a mistake.

“Well, I don’t know since you haven’t asked me.”

Ludwig quirked a brow at Feliciano and stared at him in silence, but nothing more was said, so he took that as a cue to do so, or at least that it would be okay to should he choose to.

“Who is he? That first love. I – I’ve not asked anyone else about it or tried to find out myself, because I wasn’t sure if you’d want me to. It’s simple curiosity – no more than that!” Ludwig was quick to raise his hands in worry of being reprimanded.

“Jealous much?” Feliciano chuckled at him.

“No!” Ludwig replied far too quickly, and Feliciano bit back a smile, because that would be quite mean. “You may not want me asking.”

“And why should I object to it, Ludwig?”

There was a certain calmness to his voice then that Ludwig found hard to describe. There was a kind of not-anger to it, but Ludwig couldn’t ascertain any genuine emotion past that. Perhaps, simply, Ludwig had never truly encountered Feliciano in such a way and had no way of processing his response. It was rare for him to stumble across something entirely new – Ludwig wasn’t sure if he wanted it.

“I… don’t know. You might be embarrassed or angry at me for prying. It’s none of my business after all. Or _they_ might object to it or something…” answered Ludwig cautiously.

After a period of time Feliciano said, “That’s not a possibility, Ludwig.”

There was a forlorn finality to the sentence that resonated in the air and punctured Ludwig, not acutely, but just so, just so he felt it at the forefront of his heart and mind. It wasn’t overwhelmingly sad, Feliciano had given a mainly objective and accepting statement, but Ludwig could find some longing in the silken tones of his voice, hidden under that glass shimmer he pushed so naturally onto every syllable.

Ludwig didn’t apologise or utter any exclamation of surprise. He didn’t even nod. Those didn’t seem possible to do. Ludwig blinked, and then gently asked the name of that person.

“Who was he, Feliciano?”

“His name was the Holy Roman Empire, you might have heard of him?”

As a matter of fact, Ludwig had. From what he could understand from the facts he dredged up in his memory, a percentage of the land that was once part of the Empire now belonged to him, and formerly to his brothers.

“Yes, I think I know a little.”

“Hm.” Feliciano closed his eyes and focussed once more on the sharp, salty wind, now more intense though still nothing more than what he would describe as a breeze, on the way it brushed through his hair and tickled the lighter, finer hairs on his arm. Not enough to raise those goosebumps he always found freakish yet cool.

Ludwig wondered whether he wanted to drop the conversation.

“In fact you kind of remind me of him, now that I think about it.”

“I do…?”

“Mm.” Feliciano nodded and pointed absently with his finger to emphasis his following points. “You both have blonde hair and eyes of azure. You’re both very adamant and brave, and you even get embarrassed in the same way – like that!” Feliciano said excitedly. “You always start blushing in the same manner! And it goes to your ears, too, like it did with him…”

“Is that so…”

Oh no. Feliciano could see Ludwig’s stomach plummet.

“Oh. I see. Then – do you – I… But I –”

“You are not him,” Feliciano interrupted. “You’re Ludwig.”

Ludwig fell silent. It seemed ridiculous that a moment ago he was ready to defend himself, or wonder whether Feliciano’s fondness for him was because of how much he may have reminded him of this relic of a nation. It seemed utterly unbelievable that he would think that for even a moment.

“There are many ways in which you are different to him,” Feliciano said. “He was a lot more impulsive, almost, ve, that is to say, he acted more on his heart than on his mind. He was reckless – he pursued what he wanted before thinking about things logically, and he was almost proud of it. I don’t think the thought of failure ever held him back, because he didn’t think he could fail – that we could fail… And you –” He looked directly back to Ludwig at this point, who was listening with a keen ear and a silent respect. “You’re more closed off than he is. He was far more honest with himself, I think, more open to and about his own emotions, and more ambitious. You seem scared of that. You don’t spend a lot of time acting on desire. But that can also be a good thing. You’re strict and orderly and there’s some weird logic to your thoughts that I can’t understand. How you manage to organise everything all the time like that is gobbledygook to me. But it’s only good in small amounts. Too much and you forget how to relax or have proper fun.”

“I – I see…” Ludwig looked down with the desire to sate his sudden appetite and then he realised that he didn’t have a sundae to partake of any more while he mulled over these thoughts. Feliciano flashed him a cheeky grin when he noticed.

“You seem to have given this a lot of thought, Feliciano.”

“Not really; I only said it because it came up just now. Like here’s another thing: you’re cautious but you’re also more lax than he was. He seemed like the overprotective type, and he always got very angry at me for being affectionate, too, but you got over that pretty quick, huh?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m exactly ‘over’ you stripping down so suddenly or expecting me to shower you with kisses whenever I walk through the door – or when you sneak in through my window to surprise me during the day and don’t think I haven’t noticed.” He flushed when he said it and placed a hand at his forehead. He could feel the faint ghost of a frown forming. If he’d honestly wanted to stop that all he needed to do was lock the damn thing, but… “I don’t think even my affection for you could change that.”

Feliciano laughed.

“You’re so strange sometimes!”

“Is that a shared trait, too?” He smiled. A quirk of the lips that he couldn’t help.

“Hrmmm. I suppose he was quite odd, even for someone of our nature. Not built to last…” he said without warning, and trailed off just as rapidly. Ludwig quietened immediately.

“Sorry. I guess that kind of slipped out.” Feliciano scratched the back of his head idly.

“How did he die, Feliciano?” That slipped out too. It was as if Feliciano’s words had loosened Ludwig’s tongue also. He couldn’t help but ask. Wasn’t sure if it was going too far, wasn’t sure what the small smile meant when Feliciano replied. But he didn’t sound angry.

“He went to war.”

Ludwig opened his mouth, but closed it in the same heartbeat. Many thoughts and emotions wrought conflict inside of him, and he was unsure which to display or muse over first. Neither the emotions nor the two of them were in any hurry though, and the sky stretched out above them was a paling-turned-dull blue with no sense of foreboding, so Ludwig let himself lapse into a ponderous silence. He thought about asking Feliciano, or rather relaying to Feliciano, his theories on their physical similarities. Did he resemble the fallen Empire, perhaps, because of the land he’d taken from him? It was almost impossible to truly ascertain the origins of their kind, where one person began and another ended, but still Ludwig couldn’t help but wonder… Feliciano’s answer was oddly in his head already, and he was so sure that it was honest that he needn’t even ask: _You didn’t ‘take’ his land, Ludwig. That implies stealing, or some kind of belligerence or battle. This was inheritance. Growth. Don’t think you’re his shadow. I don’t see you like that at all. You’re precious to me because you’re you._

Ludwig blinked and wondered why that answer was so very clear in his mind. Perhaps he’d vocalised his thoughts, or perhaps Feliciano had done what he thought was impossible and sensed the mood, speaking in response to the unasked question. Then again, it wasn’t fair to call such a feat impossible. Feliciano had his moments. Perhaps it was a side effect of Valentine’s Day.

Ludwig wondered whether Feliciano had grown tired and fearful of war because of these memories.

Ludwig wondered a lot of things in the minutes where light grew dim and the seclusion of the garden seemed to intensify, but most of all he wondered what Feliciano felt as he looked out across the shore. He breathed with the rush of the waves, fell into the natural rhythm of the water, and Ludwig remembered that he was once Venice, and this was his nature still.

He didn’t want to break the hush that had settled, but the more he sat in silence the longer time seemed to stretch, and the more agitated he became and the more oppressive the atmosphere felt. This was no fault of Feliciano’s of course, and he was sure it was simply the nature of their discussion starting to set in, but he couldn’t help but feel that if he tried to get Feliciano to talk again it would ease the strain in the air around him and in his lungs.

“You’re sad when you think of him,” Ludwig stated simply, obviously. He wasn’t sure why those were the words he’d chosen.

“Only sometimes. A little.”

“Is it because he never knew your feelings? Do you regret it?”

“Oh… no, not that.” Feliciano smiled at him. Ludwig wondered why he’d never noticed the age in the corner of his eyes before.

“Then –”

“Why?” Feliciano said. He tilted his head at Ludwig and wondered why he needed to clarify, because it just seemed so simple, so clear. “Oh, because he loved me back. He said _see you soon_ , and that was it.”

Feliciano was smiling softly – and Ludwig realised it was one meant to comfort.

It felt like dusk should have descended, but Ludwig knew the time was only somewhere a little later than midday, and that the darkness was not the approaching night, but rather the cold in his chest that foreshadowed a great embankment of clouds rolling out across the sky. The colour was leeched from their surroundings and turned grey around them. He wondered what it felt like being a cloud – probably a lot less busy than it was being him. He could travel as light or heavy as he pleased and let someone else carry his burdens when they were too heavy to bear… Or possibly it would be like being Feliciano – airheaded. The thought made him grin for a moment. He turned back to his friend and fell short of smiling fully.

“I’m sorry. I seem to have lowered the mood considerably, Feliciano,” Ludwig admitted with a distance in his hushed voice. His posture was pulled inwards, small, and his gaze hesitant. Feliciano could tell he looked sad, but he did not pick up on what else was there – the subtle shame that Ludwig should know such intimate thoughts regarding himself and his past, or that he was angry for pursuing the topic rather than letting it drop. It left some sour taste in Ludwig’s mouth.

“Ludwig? Lud, are you alright?”

“Should I be asking you that?” replied Ludwig.

“I’m fine, honestly I am. It feels a little weird, because I’ve never really spent so long thinking about all this in a long while, let alone talking about it, but I honestly am completely fine. I don’t see a reason to be any other way.”

And Feliciano _was_ fine. His warm smile was genuine and kind. He extended his hand out and placed it upon Ludwig’s gently, who flinched, as he hadn’t noticed the movement and the touch shocked him, but then settled with a small smile of his own and took Feliciano’s hand.

“It’s raining,” Feliciano said.

It was beginning to at least. Feliciano watched the murky skies above the sea, not at all affected by the addition of fresh water, the clouds becoming grey and swift, high currents of air pushing and pulling them. He watched the smoke-like sheets that seemed to waft down nearer the arching coastline, knowing that they were not as dainty or far off as they seemed. The clouds above them were sparse, but they were indeed heavy and laden, saturated with their load of water so that it had begun to fall as sparse droplets, turning a patch of soil darker here, and hitting the waxy, aromatic leaves and berries of juniper and broad oak with a soft plink there. Within a few minutes in that vast solitude where Feliciano and Ludwig were only connected by that touch, Feliciano’s garden had filled with the soft music of the pattering on the tiles above them, and the smells of the earth and the rain itself as it decorated the blades of grass and petals of flowers. The rain clung onto the tips of the ivy scrawled across the wall of Feliciano’s villa, growing as if it had been drawn in an overlapping scribble of not-exactly-parallel lines. More was channelled down that small centre groove where the vein bisected the leaf until gravity pulled the droplets away and onto subsequent leaves below. The mosses growing in the cracks of the bricks and atop the cement lines in the path swelled with the gain in water. The entire garden gained a new vitality with the winter-nearly-spring shower. The air became a little denser than before, but not much chillier. 

“Hey.”

Ludwig blinked and remembered where he was. He could feel the small tingle where Feliciano had touched his arm to break him out of his mild stupor, and he hummed to let Feliciano know he was listening. He went to hold Feliciano’s hand again.

“Let’s go inside,” Feliciano said softly, looking to Ludwig with a smile. “You still owe me that lunch.”

Ludwig nodded and stood up, picking up the three empty glasses and tucking in his chair as he did so. “Yes, I do.”

Feliciano looked over to him fondly from the sliding glass doors which he held onto with one hand as if he were holding open any other door that would normally close, though of course this one didn’t, and Ludwig stepped inside with a murmur of thanks. Feliciano heard him place the glasses in the sink before he rolled up his sleeves and began to wash them before starting lunch. He wondered what it would be, and he hoped it was pizza because then he could help out no matter the protest, and Ludwig was getting good at making it besides.

The sounds of all manners of pots and pans and chopping boards were very promising in the background as Feliciano continued to stare out of the half-closed door at his garden, where the contents of that conversation would stay only among the open ears of the flowers, brilliant and glistening in the sudden shower. He wanted to leave the door open so that he could soak up that petrichor, all the richer due to the breeze that swept up from the coast carrying the sweet scent of the scrublands. Ludwig didn't like the rain, though, even though he'd laughed so beautifully after that game of football last June when they were both caught off guard by it and had just laid down and felt that release surrounded by the grass and the wind and each other. Everything had been so still and perfect despite the cold and forked veins lighting the pitch underbelly of the clouds above them and the heavy beat of the tingling drops on their skin – even so, Ludwig felt sad when it rained.

Feliciano sighed and closed the door, letting the rain fade into silent shadows on the glass and the scutter of tiny feet on the tiles above them.

“So!” he chirped, leaning against Ludwig’s broad arm as he threw down a handful of flour and smoothed it into the wooden worktop he’d slotted into place on the counter. It flew up in small puffs and danced in the air. He leant into Ludwig and he smelt of vanilla. “Pizza and time for more sundae, right?”

Ludwig chuckled.

“If you insist.”

Feliciano grinned and slid his hands down over fine hairs and forgotten scars and branching veins, trying to resist the urge to tickle as he glanced over Ludwig’s palm. He folded his fingers over and Ludwig gripped his hand in kind, fingers warm and broad and a little abrasive from the powder and from lots of hard and unrelenting work.

“I can’t very well cook like this, Feliciano.”

“I know,” he said. “I know. But this is nice, don’t you think?” Feliciano peeked up at that small smile and convinced himself that the small flutter he felt was because of becoming acclimatised to the difference in temperature, not because he still, _still_ , after all these years, felt overjoyed and humbled by Ludwig’s small expressions of happiness.

“You’re right – it is.”

**Author's Note:**

> I remember I did so much research about the plants and habitat on the Italian coast for like… two whole sentence’s worth of content. Like, over an hour of thought went into that alone. 
> 
> I like it when Feliciano is solemn and really honest about his feelings but also that he feels like he has to hide them sometimes. Feli is a complete airhead but I do want to explore the more serious parts of his character. The potential is there, people. Ludwig is trans and not out in this (and Francis probably is, too). That's not the focus of the story but just wanted to make that clear.


End file.
